


Missing Pieces

by kitlee625



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlee625/pseuds/kitlee625
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 1x22. The team tries to go about business as usual, but it is hard not to feel like there are missing pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I have no reason to think that Garrett is a Dallas Cowboy’s fan, but given that the actor is from Fort Worth, Texas, I figured that that could be Garrett’s favorite team.

Simmons

She refuses to leave Fitz’s bedside. Sometimes Skye or Trip will sit with her, and May and Coulson check on them several times a day, but for the most part she is alone in the infirmary. Everyone has offered to take over her vigil so that she can get some sleep, but she always refuses.

It is not that she is needed to care for Fitz. The medical personnel who rescued them are staying at the Playground to care for him, and it is a tremendous relief to give up the responsibilities of medical officer. However, without that role she feels lost and aimless.

Fitz is lost as well, hovering on the border between life and death, recovery and permanent damage. Leaving his side, even for a moment, feels like abandoning him. Logically, she knows that her presence does nothing for him, but there is still so much that scientists do not know about the brain and how it recovers. Perhaps there is a part of him that can sense that she is beside him.

Koenig comes into the infirmary. “Agent Simmons?”

“Yes.”

“It’s your turn to be vetted.”

Simmons grips Fitz’s hand tighter. “No. I can’t leave him.”

“It will only take a few minutes, Agent Simmons.”

“I can’t leave him. What if something happens to him?”

“The doctors will be here monitoring him closely.”

Simmons shakes her head. “I’m not going anywhere without Fitz.”

Koenig sighs and pulls up a chair. “I can do part of the interview here, but I need to complete the vetting process with the lie detector test.”

Simmons blinks back tears. “It doesn’t work.”

“What?”

“The lie detector. Ward passed that test. He passed all the tests.”

Koenig looks sad. “I know. I’ve adjusted the algorithm after what happened with Ward.”

She remembers finding Eric’s body in Providence and shudders involuntarily. “Eric was your brother?”

“Yes.”

Simmons looks into his kind face. “How do you do it? Keep going without him.”

His serene expression falters slightly. “It’s difficult. But I know that we wouldn’t want me to lose sight of what’s important. Stopping Hydra. Protecting S.H.I.E.L.D. He died for that, and he would want me to pick up the good fight.”

Simmons thinks about how brave Fitz was against Ward and Garrett on the bus, and then later in the medical pod. He believed the best in Ward, and what did it get him? Sent to the bottom of the ocean. Only their ingenuity had gotten them out alive, and only just barely. “What if Fitz doesn’t make it?”

“Then it’s up to us to carry on his work.”

She wonders how she can even be a S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist without Fitz by her side, but she knows that Koenig is right. If he could wake up and say something right now, he would tell her that they have to stick with the team to rebuild S.H.I.E.L.D., stronger than before.“What do I have to do to get my lanyard?”

Koenig extends his hand. “I just need to ask you a few questions, Agent Simmons.”

*****

May

Only a few days after arriving at the Playground, May is worried about Coulson. She has promised Fury that she will watch his back, but it is hard knowing that no one has her back. When she first took the assignment, she at least had a life line. Every update log was a reminder that she had someone watching her back, someone who would intervene and tell her what to do if things got worse. Now though she has no back up. It is up to her to make the tough calls.

The information that they have on GH-325 is limited, but it is helpful. She goes through Coulson’s reports several times, memorizing all of the potential side effects, and searching through the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical database to find out how she would treat each one.

She is going through the files late one night when Simmons comes into the lab.

“May? What are you doing?”

May stares blankly at Simmons.

“Is it about the GH-325?”

May nods.

Simmons frowns. “Have either Coulson or Skye shown any of the side effects?”

“Not yet. I was familiarizing myself with what they saw in the test subjects in case something happens.”

“I’ve made some notes as well.” Simmons pulls up some files on the computer. “I went through the files on that thumb drive that you found and tracked the typical progression of symptoms. I am running simulations to determine the best course of treatment once they occur.” Seeing her face, Simmons asks, “Is there something else you’d like me to do?”

May shakes her head. She is relieved to know that someone else is watching out for Coulson and Skye. If he or Skye deteriorate like the other subjects, Simmons will help her figure out what to do. She may be young, but May has seen how brilliant she is. “No. That’s perfect.”

Simmons smiles at her. “Of course. We’re all that’s left of S.H.I.E.LD. We have to look out for each other.”

*****

Skye

It is a lot different training with May than with Ward. With Ward, even though he protested and complained, she could tell that he did not mind when she was late or spent most of the time teasing him about his robotic nature. She would play a game with herself to see how many times she could get him to crack a smile, and one day she even earned a laugh.

The only thing May has given her so far is a blank stare, and Skye likes it that way. She is not the same carefree rookie that she once was. She no longer wants to make a game of training, not when there are all too many threats to prepare for.

After one work out, May comments, “You’ve been quiet these past few days.”

Skye shrugs. “Just concentrating. And tired. I mean, five A.M. is pretty early. I think I’m still half asleep.” May does not look tired in the least, and Skye wonders if she has trained herself into not needing sleep. That would be convenient. 

“Ward said you were very talkative during training.”

Skye scowls. She tries not to think about her former SO, but has only been marginally successful. “Yeah well that was before I knew that everything out his mouth was a lie.” Not to mention all those smiles that she was so proud of earning.

May gives her a piercing look. “It’s okay to miss him,” she says quietly.

Skye stares at her feet. She hates to admit, even to herself, that she does. “He was a traitor. A liar. If he had his way, we would all be dead, and Garrett would be running around like some evil superhero. Why would I miss him?”

“Because he made us believe that he was someone else, someone loyal and caring. It’s okay to miss that person,” May says.

“He wasn’t real. It was all just a mask.”

May takes a drink of water. “Even so. It’s okay to miss him.”

Skye gives her a curious look. “Do you miss him? I mean, you guys had a thing, so –“

May shrugs. “Sometimes. But I try not to dwell on the past.”

Skye nods. “All we can do is move forward.”

“Exactly.”

*****

Trip

It sneaks up on him at random times. Most of the time, he avoid thinking about Garrett completely. He has already spent so many hours analyzing every moment together until his head is spinning, and his chest burns with rage. Avoiding the subject is easier, and for the most part it works. He has never been one to dwell on unpleasant thoughts.

What are harder to block are the memories of all the good times. He goes to the kitchen to grab a beer after a long day of work and remembers drinking pints of Guinness in a tiny bar outside of Dublin. He works on the SUV and remembers Garrett teaching him how to take a car engine apart. He helps Simmons make dinner for the team and remembers Garrett taking him to get real Texas barbecue just outside of Dallas.

Those memories are harder to push out of his mind, but he tries to bury them as deep as he can. There is no point on dwelling on the man he thought of as his mentor and boss. That man was a lie. The real John Garrett was nothing like the gruff but kind man who taught him how to disarm a nuclear weapon and teased him for having a crush on Jemma Simmons.

He goes into the lounge one night to watch some TV and catches the Redskins game. They are playing the Cowboys, and seeing the silver and blue clad players puts a knot in his stomach.

He reaches for the remote to change the channel when Skye comes in.

“Hey. What are you watching?” she asks.

“Nothing. Football. Want to watch something?”

“Not really. Just looking for company.” She glances at the screen. “Cowboys or Redskins?”

“What?”

“Do you like the Cowboys or the Redskins?”

“Redskins. I’m from Virginia.”

“Ahh. I like the Cowboys.” Skye flops on the couch.

Trip looks surprised. “Really? You?”

“Yeah. I lived all over, but before I was in LA, the happiest years of my life were in Austin. I’m not like a huge fan, but I like the Cowboys.”

The words come out before he can stop them. “Garrett liked the Cowboys. We used to watch the games together whenever we could. Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” He is not sure how she is going to react being compared to John Garrett.

To his surprise she says, “Ward likes the Patriots. Or at least he said he did before.”

“It’s weird to think that all of that was a lie,” he admits.

“Yeah.”

They sit together in companionable silence, watching the game.

During halftime, Trip admits, “It wasn’t all bad times. I mean, at the time he seemed like a good SO.”

“I know. Ward too.”

“I wish it hadn’t been a lie.”

“Me too.”

*****

Coulson

Even though Koenig has given him access to a state-of-the-art office at the Playground, Coulson prefers to work on the bus. The office at the Playground is austere, with a huge desk and a plaque that says "Phillip J. Coulson, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

Koenig gives him a proud smile when he shows him the office. “Let me know if there’s anything you need, Director.”

The title and the office feel like they are mocking Coulson, and he quickly returns to working on the bus. Surrounded by his memorabilia, he feels like himself. The history of S.H.I.E.L.D. is all around him, and now more than ever he takes comfort in the past. Fury has tremendous faith in him, but Coulson does not have the same faith in himself. He has lived so long within the familiar structure of S.H.I.E.L.D. He knows what works, what does not, and what he would change, but has no idea how to start over entirely from scratch.

"Director Coulson?" Trip knocks on the door and sticks his head in. "Do you have a minute?"

Coulson looks up from the pile of files on his desk. “Sure, what is it Trip?”

“Just wanted to get your approval on the updated repair schedule. We have most of the parts in stock, but we need to request replacement parts to restock the Playground in case something happens.”

In the old days, Coulson would just fill out a requisition form and know that S.H.I.E.L.D. would send whatever they needed in a few days. Now they do not have even that luxury. “Where are we going to get spare parts?”

“It’s a Stark Industries plane. I was going send a request for parts.”

Coulson thinks about the tentative peace between him and Maria Hill. When Fury named him director, he went to Hill again and asked her to help him rebuild S.H.I.E.L.D. She had looked doubtful and told him that while she stood behind the ideals of S.H.I.E.L.D., after everything that had happened with Hydra, she felt that it was better to start over from scratch, without the baggage of the S.H.I.E.L.D. name.

“You and your team can join me at Stark Industries.”

Coulson had refused, and they had left with a tentative alliance. He hopes that that alliance covers spare parts. “I’ll talk to Maria Hill,” he tells Trip.

Trip gives him a worried look. “Are you okay, sir?”

Coulson gives him a tense smile. “Fine.” He should not be burdening the rest of the team with his concerns. Now that he is director, he is having a hard time even talking to May about his doubts.

Trip looks at some of Coulson’s S.H.I.E.L.D. collectibles. “This stuff is great. It reminds me of the stories I grew up hearing about the Howling Commandos and the founding of S.H.I.E.L.D. I used to dream about being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent as a kid.”

“I doubt this is what you had in mind.”

“What do you mean? Of course it is. Fighting the good fight. Taking down Hydra.”

“With nothing.” He does not mean to get into this with Trip, but he continues, “There’s nothing left of S.H.I.E.L.D. No backup, no field agents or specialists or scientists. No weapons, not even any spare parts. All we have is an idea and an empty base.”

Trip’s determination does not waver. “That’s enough. My grandmother built S.H.I.E.L.D. from the ground up. She said that all you need is a cause worth fighting for.”

“Your grandmother is an amazing woman. She’s a hero.” With people like Peggy Carter and Howard Stark involved in the founding of the original S.H.I.E.L.D., how can he think that Phil Coulson can found S.H.I.E.L.D. v 2.0?

“So are you,” Trip says.

Coulson gives him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Trip starts to leave and then pauses at the door. “You may not have an agency worth of agents, but you have us: two specialists, two scientists, a field agent, and a comms agent. And none of us are going anywhere.”

Coulson’s smile softens. “Thank you, Trip.”

*****

Koenig

After so long of just watching and waiting, the Playground is a flurry of activity. First Fury arrives with two seriously ill agents, and then the new director arrives with three additional agents and a plane that barely flies. Even with Fury’s medical crew taking care of the two ill agents, there is a lot to do in order to get the new director up and running, his plane in top condition, and his associates vetted. Koenig is so busy that he barely has time to think about Eric’s death. He does not realize that it is Saturday afternoon until his phone alert goes off while he is doing inventory with Coulson.

“What’s that?” Coulson asks.

“Oh, nothing.” Koenig silences the alarm. “Just a reminder.” Coulson looks curiously at him, so he says, “Eric and I had a regular Call of Duty game. Every Saturday afternoon. Sometimes more during the week if we weren’t too busy.”

“He mentioned that when we were at Providence.”

“Yeah. I should get rid of that alarm. Don’t need the reminder.”

“You don’t have other people to play with?”

“Not any more.”

“Do you want to play with me and my team?” Coulson asks.

Koenig stammers. “You? No - I couldn’t.”

“I’d love to. I haven’t been able to play in a while.”

Koenig knows that it is just a video game, but playing Call of Duty with his brother had been the highlight of his week, the only thing to break up the loneliness of caring for a secret base by himself. “Really?”

Coulson smiles. “Sure. The inventory can wait. I’ll get my team together.”


End file.
